This is not meant to be a point of political argument as to what the purpose of government is in America. My intent is to challenge the use of the word compassion as a smokescreen for the removal of governmental programs that assist the disadvantaged on multiple levels.

The radius of change is as vast as the cosmic radius of the universe in which we spin each second. A natural instinct to be a force for good is given to us a birth, and it is how we nurture that natural instinct that is either the drop of water that becomes the ocean, or the drop of water that dries on the arid sand.

Our efforts require personal mining ops. We must dig into our hearts, our souls, and spend more time reflecting in the mirror as opposed to smartphones hooked to selfie sticks.

I wonder how many times I’ve been called a bitch? Was I a bitch because I have strapped “them” on and wrestled the proverbial bulls? Did I wear the title because I stood for my beliefs? Is it bitchy because I’m the boss and confident with decision making? I don’t know. However, I suspect that because I have refused (or been unable) to act subservient or lesser-than, that the bitch word has likely been attached to certain conversations about me.

This Nepali photographer told the story in one photo. He did his job. His photo impacted and haunted me. How could it be fair that my grandchildren could be so beautifully clothed while the young girl in the mountains of Nepal wears rags?

When you visit my home, a bronze Quan Yin sits in her meditative pose atop a lotus flower. Her eyes are downcast; her right hand evokes attention or mindfulness, while her left hand rests on her knees and holds a vase of water. This goddess of compassion dominates my living area. A guest room is devoted to this bodhisattva, as is a portion of the garden outside of that room. Why the multiple effigies of Quan Yin? She is both the “ […]

I discovered yesterday that my sensitivity to spoken words is a weakness, a fault, and a chip on my shoulder. Admittedly, I’m a sensitive person. I can cry watching car commercials. Tears flood my eyes when I watch adorable pet videos on You Tube. A beautifully worded poem will cost my box of tissue about 10 tissues. When a soulful guitar solo wafts towards my ears, the whites of my eyes turn red and I sniffle through the song. Yes, I’m a […]